


Where We Belong

by RaeDMagdon



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Eating out, F/F, Fingering, Fluff, Modern AU, Riding, Smut, new apartment, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28756284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeDMagdon/pseuds/RaeDMagdon
Summary: Modern AU. Jack and Miranda celebrate purchasing their first apartment together.
Relationships: Jack | Subject Zero/Miranda Lawson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 116





	Where We Belong

**Author's Note:**

> Another thing from my hard drive. Enjoy!
> 
> Twitter and tumblr are @raedmagdon. Please give me a follow if you like!

“Even without furniture, this place is a fucking shoebox,” Jack grumbled. She crossed her arms over her chest, studying the apartment with a critical eye.

Looking, Miranda had to agree. Their new place was extremely tiny: a single bedroom barely large enough for a queen-sized mattress, a kitchen that took up one corner of the cramped living room, and a half-bath with only a humble shower stall to its name.

But she didn’t mind one bit. This apartment was  _ theirs. _ Her first major purchase without any of her father’s money, or the strings that always came with it. She and Jack had scraped together the first and last months’ rent for deposit all by themselves, and only their names were on the rental agreement.

“Shoebox is probably accurate.” She sauntered to Jack’s side, slinging a possessive arm about her waist. “But it’s  _ our  _ shoebox. That’s more than enough for me.”

Jack leaned over, resting her cheek on Miranda’s shoulder. A rare affectionate gesture, one Miranda knew Jack might not be so easily inclined to offer in public. “There’s barely enough space for the two of us. We might have to forget about adopting a cat and get a hamster instead. Maybe we should ask Shepard where she got Twinkie?”

Miranda’s smile faltered. She looked into Jack’s eyes, her brow furrowing with concern. “Why are you so worried about space all of a sudden? You didn’t say anything when we looked at the place.”

Jack lifted her head, forcing a smile. “I’m not worried.”

“Try again,” Miranda said. She and Jack had been together long enough that she could read the nuance in her girlfriend’s voice, her eyes, her expression. Jack was worried about something—and Jack’s worries always made her worry, too.

“Fine, I’m worried. I’m used to slumming it. Give me running water and no roaches, and I’m good. But you…”

Miranda removed her arm from around Jack’s waist, placing her hands on her hips. “What about me?” she asked, arching an inquisitive brow.

Jack huffed and ran a hand through her hair, which she’d let grow long over the shaved sides and pulled back into a messy ponytail. “Well, you’re… you know.  _ You, _ Cheerleader. Where did you grow up?”

“Sydney…”

“Where in Sydney?” Jack pressed.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “Darling Point.”

“And when you moved to New York?”

“Scarsdale. What are you getting at?”

“We’re living in the Bronx now, and not one of the nicer parts. It’s gonna take some adjustment.”

“Worried it’s too much for my delicate sensibilities?” Miranda aimed a judgmental glare in Jack’s direction. “Don’t you know me better than that by now? I’m dating you, after all.”

That earned a laugh from Jack at last. “True. If my bullshit hasn’t scared you off by now, I doubt anything will.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullshit,” Miranda said. “In fact, I’d say your contrarian attitude is part of your charm.”

The corners of Jack’s mouth twitched up in a smirk, which Miranda took as a sign of success. “Why are you being so  _ nice _ today? Huh, Princess?” She edged closer and rested her chin on Miranda’s shoulder again, her smirk shifting into more of a leer. “Could it be that you want something from me?”

A familiar tingle raced along Miranda’s spine. To be honest, she  _ always _ wanted something from Jack. Even back when they’d been rivals, the attraction had been undeniable. Not that she hadn’t tried to deny it, loudly and to whomever would listen. Shepard, usually. The poor woman had been forced to listen to their respective denials for months before they finally ‘worked out’ their issues on their own.

Now, things were no different. The electricity she felt whenever Jack so much as looked in her direction was every bit as strong as the first day they’d met. Miranda suddenly wished she’d changed into something cooler, like shorts and a tank top, instead of coming straight from work in a blouse and pencil skirt.

“Of course I want something from you,” Miranda said, doing her best to sound indifferent. “The cat you promised. None of this hamster nonsense.”

Jack’s leer became an outright grin. “A cat, huh?” She slid her hand around Miranda’s waist, but only as a brief stop-over on the way to her ass. When she squeezed, heat unfurled in Miranda’s lower belly. “Are you sure that’s the kind of pussy you want?”

Miranda scoffed, swatting Jack’s hand away from her rear. The suggestion had affected her more than she wanted to admit, but there was no way she’d let Jack know that, if she could help it. “Really, Jack? There isn’t even any furniture here yet.”

“Come on,” Jack said. “Since when has that stopped us?”

_ Another point to Jack, _ Miranda thought, blushing as several previous sojourns flashed through her memory.

It was true that she and Jack often had sex in unusual places. There was the usual—bed, couch, shower, and the back seats of Jack’s various terrible cars, which she only used when it was raining too heavily to take her motorcycle—but also the unusual. Like in Liara’s pantry, that one time. The gym locker rooms back in college. Her father’s office. That one was a particularly prized memory.

_ In comparison, I suppose an empty apartment is rather tame. _

But Miranda wasn’t about to give in easily, no matter how eager she was to eventually lose the argument. “What happened to being concerned for my comfort? Do you really expect a ‘princess’ like me to have sex on a bare hardwood floor? We haven’t even thrown down a rug yet.”

Jack winked. “I thought you’d be eager to prove me wrong. But since you’re so concerned about your back…”

“Who says I’ll be the one getting my back blown out this time?” Miranda asked, tilting her chin in challenge.

_ “Since you’re so concerned about your back,” _ Jack repeated, louder and with more insistence, “we’ll just have to improvise.” She peeled off her leather jacket, which was much sexier than it had any right to be. It was soft and supple and always smelled of Jack’s cologne. Miranda wore it every chance she got, even though she couldn’t fasten the zipper all the way over her chest.

“A jacket is no replacement for a bed, or even a rug,” Miranda said, but her eyes grew wider and her breathing shallower as Jack spread it on the floor with a flourish, like a gentleman covering a puddle on the street for his sweetheart.

“If you don’t feel like roughing it, we’ll just have to wait to break in the apartment,” Jack said, almost too innocently. “But it might be a  _ long _ wait. The rest of the crew is coming over tomorrow to help us with our stuff. Good luck getting any time alone with them around.”

Miranda sighed. Jack made a reasonable point. It was probably now or never. She’d take sex on the hardwood floor if the alternative was no sex at all. Still, that didn’t mean she had to accept it cheerfully. “I should have gotten us a room for the night.” To her surprise, she realized she’d begun unfastening the buttons of her blouse without conscious thought. Jack simply had that effect on her. The woman was far too enticing for her own good.

“Nah,” Jack said, peeling off her own halter top and half-binder. Both were white, a stark contrast to the black jacket, especially when they joined it on the floor, adding to the makeshift carpet of clothes. “First night in a new apartment is special. We can fuck in a hotel room any old time.”

Miranda took a moment to admire Jack’s freshly bared upper body, torn between two different paths of thought. The first was admiration. Jack’s frame was lean and rangey, but incredibly toned and athletic. Her breasts were bigger without the binder, adding a delightful bit of softness to her figure. And, of course, there was the tapestry of gorgeous tattoos spanning from her chin to her toes.

Despite the distracting display, Miranda couldn’t help wondering:  _ Is Jack saying she wants this to be special? Does it mean something important to her? _

Jack wasn’t usually the romantic type. She claimed ‘sappy shit’—her words—had always felt unnatural to her. (She’d claimed serious relationships themselves were unnatural, before entering theirs.) And yet, Miranda had been with Jack long enough to catch glimpses of her softer side.

_ I suppose one could consider the apartment a physical manifestation of our relationship. It’s something we’re investing in together. Maybe having sex here on the first night is more important to Jack than she’d openly admit. _

“Like the view?” Jack drawled, shifting her shoulders back to put her breasts on more prominent display.

Miranda’s eyes flicked down to Jack’s breasts. They had a beautiful weight to them while they were unbound, and her tight brown nipples strained against the cool air. “Fishing for compliments is beneath you, but yes,” Miranda said, sliding her own blouse from her shoulders to add to the pile of clothes on the floor. “You know I do.”

Jack scoffed. “Yeah, right. Like you don’t fish for compliments all the time.” Nevertheless, she unbuttoned her pants and began shimmying out of them—a move she couldn’t make entirely sexy because of how tight they were. It was, however, cute enough to warm Miranda’s heart.

“You’re adorable,” she said, partially because she knew it would get Jack’s hackles up.

Jack shot her a narrow-eyed glare. “Adorable? Really, Cheerleader?”

Miranda made quick work of her skirt and shoes, swaying over to Jack in just her stockings and underwear. Jack’s glare transformed into an appreciative, wide-eyed stare, which Miranda took a great deal of pride in. “Yes, adorable.” She tapped the tip of Jack’s nose with her index finger, only for Jack to snap at it with a flash of teeth. “Rude. That’s not what your mouth is for.”

“Oh, yeah? Guess you’d better show me what to do with it, then.”

“If you insist.”

Miranda leaned in for a kiss, but Jack drew back, settling down on the pile of clothes and lying back with legs spread. Predictably, she wasn’t wearing any underwear, leaving the bare lips of her pussy on full display. “Well?” she asked, arching a tattooed brow. “It’s not gonna eat itself.”

Though she rolled her eyes, Miranda couldn’t quite stifle her laughter. She dropped to her hands and knees, prowling over Jack’s prone form instead of ducking between her legs. She made sure to drag her breasts, still covered by the lace of her bra, along Jack’s stomach and chest on the way to her lips.

This time, Jack didn’t turn away when Miranda kissed her. Their mouths met in a heated clash of teeth and tongue, and Miranda shivered as Jack’s hands slid down her back to cup the swell of her ass.

“You always drive me crazy,” Jack muttered against her lips, “with this perfect ass of yours.”

Miranda sucked in a soft gasp, then seized Jack’s mouth in an even more heated kiss. She usually hated that word: perfect. Her father, teachers, and peers had always expected nothing less than perfection from her, and she’d spent most of her life stressed to the point of panic underneath a cool exterior. But Jack saw all her flaws and still thought she was perfect, inside and out. Being seen, being known so intimately, was the greatest gift Miranda had ever received.

She moved slowly down Jack’s body, making sure to give each intricate tattoo plenty of attention. Her first stop was the four-pointed silver star in the center of Jack’s chest, which she kissed lightly and reverently before dragging her tongue along one of the skeletal handprints reaching out from between its points.

“Tease,” Jack growled, shoving her fingers into Miranda’s hair and pulling in an effort to direct her mouth.

Miranda allowed it, but still took her time, blowing a cool stream of air over the stiff point of Jack’s left nipple. “You enjoy it that way,” she murmured, letting her lips brush the pebbled bud before drawing it into her mouth. 

Jack groaned and bucked, dragging a slippery trail of heat down Miranda’s bare stomach. “Come on. At least get me off once before you start in with all this slow, sappy shit.”

Despite Jack’s protests, Miranda remained unwilling to be rushed. She switched to Jack’s other nipple only after the first was cherry red and throbbing, shifting back every time Jack tried to grind too hard or fast against her abdomen. Jack’s fingers tightened in her hair, but Miranda ignored the mild discomfort. Driving Jack crazy was well worth a little pain.

Her next destination was the bold red star on Jack’s stomach. It twitched at the first graze of her lips, and Miranda took a moment to enjoy the way Jack’s toned muscles rippled beneath the striking pattern. Though Jack wasn’t bulky, she was still wonderfully fit. Her abdomen always tensed so beautifully when she came…

“Earth to Cheerleader? You okay down there?”

Miranda blinked in surprise, realizing she’d been caught staring. She kissed Jack’s stomach in apology, offering a sheepish shrug. “Just admiring the view,” she said, running her hands up along Jack’s lean thighs to cup her hips.

Jack’s eyes narrowed. Her smile was positively devious as she loosened her grip on Miranda’s hair, stroking her head instead. “Why just look when you could touch?”

_ She makes a good point… and there is an awful lot of beautiful, bare skin to touch… _

Despite her teasing intentions, Miranda found herself ducking beneath Jack’s knees, draping them over her shoulders and settling on her stomach. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, even with the pile of clothes to provide some respite from the hardwood floor, but she didn’t care. The sight of Jack’s pussy inches from her face was more than enough reward.

“That’s more like it.” Jack raked her nails along Miranda’s scalp, cupping a hand behind her head to urge her forward. “Show me what you got, Princess.”

Miranda wetted her lips. She’d never been able to resist a challenge, especially from Jack. She leaned in, running her tongue between the bare, puffy lips of Jack’s pussy in a single broad stroke.

Jack gasped, digging both heels in behind Miranda’s shoulder blades.  _ “Fuck.” _

“Not yet,” Miranda hummed, pressing the softest of kisses to Jack’s clit. It gave a visible twitch, swelling further beneath its hood. “Soon, though.” She resumed before Jack could answer, sucking Jack’s clit between her lips and swirling her tongue over its tip.

Jack’s hips lifted off the floor, rocking in search of more, and Miranda was more than happy to provide. She slid her tongue lower, teasing the tight muscles of Jack’s entrance before slipping inside for a shallow thrust. She would have been able to push deeper if she’d used her fingers, but she feared that would make Jack come too quickly. She wanted to  _ enjoy _ this first.

Soon, Miranda was lost in Jack’s warm, thick scent. In the salty sweetness of her taste. Jack’s hips rolled harder, faster, but Miranda managed to keep up through sheer force of will. She refused to let Jack escape her mouth for a single moment. To miss a single slip of wetness seemed utterly unbearable.

She licked until Jack bucked and writhed beneath her, constantly searching for more of her mouth. Jack was all grunts and curses and raw passion, and Miranda’s head spun with the intensity of it all. Her own core pulsed, as though she were on the verge of coming herself.

“Fucking shit, Miri,” Jack hissed, tightening her hold on Miranda’s hair. “M’so close. Goddamn fucking make me…” Her words became lost in a sharp cry as Miranda finally introduced her fingers, only one at first, then a second when she felt how wet and open her lover already was.

Hooking both fingers forward, she latched on to Jack’s clit and sucked as hard as she dared, lashing her tongue up and down. It worked, of course. She knew Jack’s body inside and out: every mole, every tattoo, and especially how to make her fall apart with pleasure.

This time was no different than any other, and yet Miranda found it endlessly fascinating. As Jack went rigid, digging both heels into Miranda’s back, spilling a flood around her fingers and down her chin, it was all she could do not to lose herself in awe. Jack was absolutely stunning while lost in the throes of pleasure, and Miranda almost wished she could pull back to witness the full picture. Almost.

She kept Jack’s peak going for as long as possible, only withdrawing when Jack’s hips twitched with what she could instantly tell was discomfort. She stilled her curling fingers and released Jack’s swollen clit, scattering light kisses over her twitching thighs instead.

“Hey,” Jack grumbled, her voice noticeably hoarse and raspy. “That tickles.”

Miranda raised her head and smirked, making a show of licking her lips. “I give you a mind-blowing orgasm, and all you give me in return are complaints. Typical Jack.”

Jack huffed, rolling her eyes. “Fuck you, Cheerleader.”

“Yes, please.” Miranda summoned her strength, lifting herself onto hands and knees. She prowled over Jack’s prone form, crawling forward until her breasts swayed inches from Jack’s mouth. “Now, if you don’t mind.”

“Now, huh?” Jack lifted her head, sucking one of Miranda’s nipples into her mouth and tugging it with her teeth. Miranda gasped, shuddering as fresh slickness spread between her thighs. Her inner walls fluttered as Jack’s tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, and stifled a whimper of disappointment when she released it to the cool air. “Greedy for it, aren’t you? Little slut.”

Miranda’s eyes fluttered. She leaned forward, rubbing her nipple against Jack’s mouth in hopes she would resume sucking. “Please,” she murmured, shooting Jack her best pleading look.

One of Jack’s arms wrapped around her waist, fingertips trailing along her lower back. “Oh. Now it’s  _ please, _ huh?” Her warm, slightly roughened hands slid down to Miranda’s ass, cupping both cheeks and urging her to scoot forward. “Well, since you asked  _ so _ nicely, Princess…” 

Miranda shifted positions happily, the muscles in her thighs flexing as she came to kneel over Jack’s face. The sight of Jack grinning up at her, eyes alight with mischief, made her heart flutter and her core clench in anticipation. With a sigh, she lowered herself onto Jack’s face.

And, oh! The soft heat of Jack’s mouth. The gentle, insistent press of her tongue. The first stroke threatened to make Miranda’s entire body melt right then and there, while the second caused her hips to jerk forward, helplessly searching for more.

Jack squeezed her ass tighter, welcoming each thrust, and Miranda swiftly realized that ‘more’ was an abstract, possibly unattainable concept. The faster she rocked, the deeper Jack’s tongue swirled, sliding inside her only to leave and flick her clit instead. Each time it did, the worse Miranda shook. The more fiercely she craved.

And she did crave Jack. Always had. From the first moment they’d met, well before she’d understood why this strange, tattooed hooligan awakened such an intense hatred within her, Miranda had felt…  _ something.  _ But it hadn’t ended up being hatred after all. She’d been jealous of Jack at first sight. Envious of this beautiful, free, uninhibited woman, who had no problem telling anyone who didn’t like her to fuck right off. Now, that same wonderful woman was all hers, to enjoy whenever and however she wanted.

“Jack,” she panted, running her hands through the thick dark hair on top of Jack’s head, ruining the ponytail completely. She raked her nails over the shaved sides as well, enjoying the way the soft-clipped fuzz felt beneath her fingertips. “Please, I need…” Her words trailed off into a groan as she lost all powers of speech.

Soon, Miranda’s skin dripped with sweat and her lashes grazed her flushed cheeks. She tried to keep watching, fascinated by the smile brimming in Jack’s soft, crinkled eyes, but pleasure got the better of her. She arched her spine, letting her chin fall forward against her chest as she struggled to breathe.

“S’okay,” Jack mumbled between licks, kneading Miranda’s ass in her hands. “Come for me, babe. Come in my mouth.” She wrapped her lips around Miranda’s clit, sealing the sensitive bud within the silken heat of her mouth.

Miranda stiffened. Her mouth fell open, her eyes rolled back, and her hips gave one final jog against Jack’s slick chin. Then she came, clutching Jack’s hair and spilling everything she had. Her clit twitched in the seal of Jack’s lips and her inner walls rippled, searching for something thick to grip.

She got what she wanted a few moments later. Jack, who knew her as well as she knew herself, cupped a hand between her legs and slid three fingers inside, not even bothering to check whether she could take them.

Miranda accepted the stretch with a whimper, letting her release run into Jack’s waiting palm. The clothes they were lying on would surely be stained, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to. She was floating on cloud nine, and had no intention of coming back to Earth any time soon.   
  
“Mm. Mmmf!”

Miranda blinked, realizing with some embarrassment that she was clutching the longer section of Jack’s hair much too tightly and grinding her hips far too hard. She eased her grip and shifted back, freeing Jack in time to hear her take a deep, relieved breath. She grinned immediately afterward, so Miranda doubted there was any harm done.

“Everything all right down there, Naught?” she asked, just in case.

Jack snorted. “The world’s sexiest woman just rode my face. I think I’m doing pretty damn well. Don’t you, Princess?”

“Fair enough.” Miranda gave a happy sigh, rolling off Jack’s body and flopping onto her back. When Jack scooted close, she opened her arms, allowing Jack’s head to rest on her shoulder. “That was fabulous. Definitely blew away my expectations for sex on a hardwood floor.”

“Sex is sex,” Jack said, as though she weren’t surprised at all. “And we’re pretty fuckin’ great at it.”

“True.”

They rested together a while, basking in the afterglow and enjoying each other’s company. “Your heart’s slowing down,” Jack said after a long span of comfortable silence. “I can hear it under my ear.”

“Can you now?” Miranda leaned over, pressing her ear to the top of Jack’s head. She furrowed her brow deliberately, as though straining to hear. “Can’t hear anything in your skull, though. Must’ve misplaced your brains again.”

It was an incredibly stupid joke. A stupid, cheesy joke that should have gotten a groan and an eye-roll at best. Instead, Jack rolled onto her side and  _ guffawed, _ her entire body shaking with mirth. She even slapped an open palm on the floor as she tried to get a grip on herself.

“Come off it,” Miranda said. “It wasn’t  _ that _ funny.”

“Wh-why don’t you check your ass?” Jack said between lingering fits of laughter. “Oh, wait. It’s  _ your  _ head up there, not mine.”

Miranda managed a genuine chuckle of her own. Jack’s joke was almost as dumb as hers, and that felt… good. Relaxing. Comfortable. She’d never felt the freedom to look or sound stupid in front of anyone else before, on accident or otherwise. Jack was the first. Miranda knew she would never take it for granted.

“Well, I’ve always been remarkably flexible,” she quipped.

Jack flopped onto her back, folding her hands behind her head and staring up at the ceiling. “Yeah. I know, Cheerleader.” Her eyes slid sideways, and she shot Miranda a mischievous grin. “Wanna prove it?”

“Really?” Miranda asked. “We’ve just finished.”

“Wrong.” With surprising speed for someone recovering from an intense round of sex, Jack flipped over and rolled on top, pinning Miranda flat against the floor beneath the weight of her lithe body. “Babe, we’re just getting started.”

Jack was as good as her word. When she reversed directions, placing her knees on either side of Miranda’s head and kissing down her belly toward her pussy, Miranda was more than willing to go along. She ran her hands up Jack’s thighs, which were suddenly within reach, and grasped the firm cheeks of her rear, hoping to pull her closer.

This time, there was no teasing. The moment Miranda felt Jack’s hot tongue swipe her clit, she did the same, determined to give as good as she got. Jack was delicious, of course—extra swollen and slippery from her previous peak. Miranda made sure not to suck too hard as she pulled Jack’s clit into her mouth, wary of overstimulation.

Jack disagreed. “Harder, dammit,” she grunted in the midst of her own licking, rocking her hips down in an attempt to push herself against Miranda’s mouth.

Obediently, Miranda sucked harder. She was rewarded by two of Jack’s fingers, which slipped inside her as though they had always belonged there. They didn’t thrust or cause much friction, but hooked expertly against her front wall, causing white spots to float around her eyes.

_ Fuck! _ She couldn’t speak with her head buried between Jack’s legs and her mouth hard at work, but she clenched around the curling fingers, hoping that was enough to show her appreciation. There was nothing she loved more than feeling Jack move inside her, always searching for the best possible angle.

Despite how good Jack’s mouth and fingers felt, Miranda’s orgasm still took her by surprise. She had expected a slow, methodical build-up, since she’d already come once. Instead, her peak struck like lightning. Her core clenched, and she whimpered against Jack’s pussy, desperate for air but unwilling to pull away for even a moment.

Jack only took her release as reason to go harder. Her fingers picked up harder, deeper thrusts, and her lips latched onto Miranda’s clit, refusing to let go. Miranda completely forgot what she was doing despite her best efforts—but that was all right, because Jack seemed more than happy to grind against her face from above, seeking pleasure on her own terms.

When Jack came as well, it only made Miranda flutter harder. Warm, salty heat ran into her mouth and over her chin, causing a slippery mess that Miranda was more than happy to clean with hungry strokes of her tongue. She licked and sucked and nuzzled until Jack collapsed on top of her, panting heavily.

“Fuck.  _ Fuck.” _

Miranda groaned and turned her head to the side, licking her lips to get the last of Jack’s flavor. Her pussy felt pleasantly numb, and her limbs tingled with a lovely, sleepy sort of weight. “If this is the kind of sex I have to look forward to now that we have our own place,” she sighed, “this is the best purchase I’ve ever made.”

Jack laughed, although there was a hint of exhaustion in it. Miranda took some pride in that, knowing she was the cause. “Yeah. We’re gonna be really happy here, aren’t we, Princess?”

A smile spread across Miranda’s face. ‘Princess’ and ‘Cheerleader’ had once been insults, and she had simmered with rage whenever Jack used them. Now, they tugged at her heartstrings every time. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

A buzzing sound beside the pile of clothes they’d collapsed on pulled Miranda out of the afterglow. Jack grumbled, trying to find the source, but she managed to retrieve her mobile first. A quick check of her alerts revealed the source: Shepard, who had texted her several times in the last few minutes.

“Shepard wants to stop by in twenty,” she told Jack. “With Liara, Garrus, Tali, and ‘some others’, according to her. She promised to bring pizza.”

Jack lit up. “Beer, too?”

“I’ll ask.” But Miranda didn’t text Shepard back right away. Instead, she grew distracted by the soft sight of Jack’s face, lips swollen from kissing, a few faint bruises amidst the tattoos on her neck, her dark brown eyes alight with happiness. Miranda thought it was the most beautiful sight she’d ever seen in her life.

“Post-sex pizza and beer sounds perfect,” Jack sighed. “Tell Shepard to hurry up.”

“We’ll have to put on new clothes,” Miranda pointed out. “Probably shower as well. Some Febreze wouldn’t hurt either.”

“Shower?” A wicked grin spread across Jack’s face.

Miranda rolled her eyes. “A shower where we  _ actually shower.” _

“Lame. You’re no fun,” Jack grumbled, sticking out her lower lip in a pout.

“Besides,” Miranda said, “the shower’s so small we might not fit at the same time.”

Jack remained undeterred. “We won’t find out until we try, will we?”

As always, Miranda couldn’t say no to the person she loved more than anyone else in the world. “No, I suppose we won’t.”


End file.
